


Simply Meant To Be

by asoftervirge



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Grim Reapers, Immortality, Implied Mpreg, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Not Really Character Death, Pining, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-09 08:08:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16446047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asoftervirge/pseuds/asoftervirge
Summary: Virgil is the Prince of Death. Roman is a mortal human. They weren’t meant to be, but yet…they were.





	Simply Meant To Be

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween, fellow Famders! xx Virge
> 
> This came about because I was talking to a friend about Halloween and I was listening to the _Nightmare Before Christmas_ soundtrack and I figured, why not do a Sanders Sides fic for Halloween? This was inspired by Schubert’s quartet called _Death and The Maiden_ as well as the German motif _Der Tod und das Mädchen._

**PROLOGUE**

Virgil knew his place from when he was a small child.

Growing up as the Prince of Death was more of a negative than a positive for him. Mortals would always say that being something akin to the Grim Reaper would be something amazing; how cool the job looked, having a scythe, wearing all black.

And every time they did so, Virgil would laugh bitterly.

It was a demanding position. It almost deprived one of having any empathy for the dying mortals and the reaped souls. To most Reapers, they are just souls waiting to be calmed by the cold slash of a sickle blade.

Being a Grim Reaper doesn't necessarily make you good, nor does it make you evil. It just made you a living void from in between. All they endeavor is to keeping balance in the world.

Death, in the end, always gets it way.

Virgil's father, the current Grim Reaper, follows that guide.

He is a nightmarish reaper whose visage strikes strange against the gleeful satisfaction he feels at performing his work. His authority is absolute, growing wrathful when disobeyed, when mortals try to cheat death, or when someone steals from him.

Each incarnation of the Hand of Death has their own views of guiding souls to the afterlife and being a ruler of Castle Mors.

Some wish to be guides to the souls passing over. They wish to celebrate both the lives they lived, and the life they will have in the afterlife. They are the life of the party, and want you to forget that your heart had stopped beating. After all, what do you have to lose?

Others believe all lives are theirs for the taking. If they find a human lurking in the night, they will kill and drag the unfortunate into endless oblivion. Only those already wracked by him, those caught in gut-wrenching wailing, moans of agony, and fits of mania are safe.

And there are those that are both. If the ill or elderly were brought to them, they cared for them, gave them comfort, were kind-hearted. However, those they deemed to be evil were mercilessly hurled into the depths of the seventh, eighth, or ninth Hells.

Virgil himself, however, feels very different about it. He simply wants to be a friend to those who were scared, worried about the ones they leave behind. To him, even if they are souls, they are still human and he wants them to see that he is human too.

Fortunately for him, there was one mortal who gave him that chance.

* * *

 It was a cold and dreary night, a perfect night for collecting souls.

Since Virgil was young adolescent, his father decided it was appropriate to begin teaching him the ways of being a reaper. After all, he was to inherit the position when he is of age.

Even though he knew his father meant well, Virgil always hated this part of the job.

He didn't like to physically go and collect souls. He would've preferred them to bring themselves to him and he could be a gentle guardian to them as he led them to the afterlife. He quickly learned he couldn't exactly get what he wanted.

Most of these nights, Virgil would usually keep distance from his father and merely observe what he does rather than participate. Usually, he would sit on the ledges of building or on the curve of street lamps and watch those that walk by.

Sometimes, his two black wings would be on display, curled over his being like a security blanket. Other times, he would just wear his cloak, which he's had since he was a child.

Tonight though, Virgil felt the need to stay behind, almost like something was about to happen to him soon. He was never a destiny believer, for he believed that was an angel's doing, but something told him to take a chance.

“Excuse me?”

Virgil looked around to see where the small voice was coming from. Finally, he looked down and almost felt his heart stop.

Tugging at his ankle was a little boy. He was wearing a white sailor dress with red piping on the skirt, collar, and sleeves. He also had on a little sailor hat on that was also lined with red. Little frilled socks and black heels adorned his feet.

Gulping, Virgil shakily knelt down to meet the little boy properly. He can see he has sparkling almond brown eyes and from underneath his hat, has dark brown hair like he does. "C-Can I help you?"

With a bright smile, the boy nodded. Virgil felt like he was going to travel to the afterlife because of him. "I lost my scarf! Please help me find it?"

Looking around, his father was no where to be found, so Virgil figured it was alright. He nodded and saw the little boy jump up and down excitedly before grabbing his hand and forcing the teen to run behind him.

The two of them searched throughout parts of the city until, out of the corner of his eye, Virgil saw something bright red floating on top of the sea. Gently, he guided the boy to the bridge's railing before pointing to the red cloth. "Is that your scarf?"

"My scarf!" The boy cried out sadly. He watched as the scarf continued to drift along the water. A sad noise came from the boy. It nearly broke Virgil's heart. "That was my mama's abuela's scarf. She gave it to me for my birthday. I can't lose it, it'll make her sad."

Virgil looked to the scarf, then to the little boy, then to the scarf again. It was a good distance away, so he could use his wings and fly to get the scarf. But does he want to risk showing this boy who he really is?

If he does show his wings, the boy could just confuse him for a nevermore-hybrid. On the other hand, he could just swim out and get it. Either way, the teen was going to get wet.

"Wait right here," he tells the boy. "Don't go anywhere. I'll get it for you." With that, he climbed over the railing and dived straight into the water.

It was freezing and the harsh winds weren't helping that. Braving through the cold, he powered through the waves and retrieved the scarf. He climbed the bridge and jumped over the railing, kneeling down before the boy.

"This yours?" he asked with a smile. Seeing the boy smiling so brightly and hugging the wet scarf against his chest made getting soaked to the skin worth it.

"Thank you! Thank you so much!"

"You're welcome." Virgil looked around and saw nobody was really watching them. "Where's your Mama and Daddy at?"

The boy pointed off into the distance. Though Virgil couldn't see any adult figures, he believed he knew where his parents were. "Over there somewhere." he says. "I better go now.” With one last smile, the little boy began to run off.

Virgil was about to turn around and find his father when he heard realized something, “Wait!” He saw him turn around and look at him with an adorable gaze. "What's your name, kid?”

"My name's Roman! It was nice to meet you!" Roman waved goodbye before running off to find his parents.

 _Roman_. Virgil liked that name.

He liked it a lot actually.

Pleased with his surprisingly good deed, he left to find his Father. He soon found him watching in an alleyway that wasn't far from where he and Roman were.

"Do you smell it?"

Virgil knew what he was referring to, but he decided to play dumb. "Smell what, Father?"

"The Scent of Death." All Grim Reapers possessed this ability. To be able to smell when someone is about to die, or they are in fact dying. It's not something that's visible to any mortal or immortal's eye, but it's almost like an extra sense for Reapers.

"...No." He was still young, looking like he was only 14, while he can detect the Scent of Death faintly, he wasn't able to smell it as strong as his Father does.

His father looked at him like he didn't believe him, but he knows his son was still learning. "You will eventually." He tells him. "Come, Vergilius. There are a few more souls to collect this night."

Four black wings sprouted from his Father's back in full display. They silhouetted beautifully against the night sky and it made Virgil gaze at him with a secret admiration.

The Reaper flew off into the distance, leaving his son to follow behind on foot.

As he walked, rain sprinkled down on him gently and the sky grew darker. It was ideal weather for him to lie in bed and sleep. But he couldn't think of sleep, not when he was thinking back to what his Father said about the Scent of Death.

Did he know something Virgil didn't? Did he know when Roman was going to die?

Was it soon? Later? Would it happen unexpectedly? Or would it be planned?

Virgil didn't like that he didn't know. But he certainly knew one thing.

Roman wasn't going to die. Not on his watch.

* * *

As Roman grew, Virgil secretly became his guardian angel. Which is ironic considering how he was the Prince of Death and future Grim Reaper.

Some nights he would sit on a rooftop and gaze down at the denizens below him. He would search around until he found the familiar red scarf he'd grown so used to seeing.

When he did so, the little boy would stop, almost as if he knew Virgil was watching over him, before looking above him and seeing the teen. He would break out into this big grin and wave at him, smiling wider when Virgil waved back.

Those occasional nights of seeing each other grew to every night.

Slowly, Virgil watched the little boy grow into a handsome man.

A handsome man that Virgil couldn't help but have feelings for.

On the rare moment where he would walk amongst the mortals, he would hear them all speak highly of Roman and his abilities.

"You know that Princeton boy, right?"

"He grew to be so dashing!"

"Roman Princeton? He's an incredibly gifted actor!"

"I hope he makes it somewhere big!"

"All of his performances drive people to tears he moves them so much!"

"Tears and standing ovations."

Virgil listens with intrigue. _So Roman grew up to be an actor?_ It makes sense to him considering how he would always see Roman walking the streets when it was incredibly dark.

It always worried him because the actor was so beautiful and he knew demons and monsters would love to prey on him. His anxiety and overprotectiveness tended to grow whenever it was concerning Roman.

He was about to tune out their conversations until he heard one woman talking to another.

"Did you know he recently got the starring role in _One Thousand Nights_?"

"Yes, that premieres tonight! I have tickets for it!"

"It's said to be his best performance yet! His singing voice is said to be phenomenal!"

"Oh I can't wait!"

Virgil wasn't keen on following the theatrics and opera circuits like most, though he knew about the _One Thousand Nights_ premiere. If all these people were praising Roman to the high heavens, perhaps he should go and see for himself.

He didn’t know if The Majestic Concert Hall was different from the Grim Theatre, but he’ll find out tonight.

There was still a little time before the premiere, so he figured he would make a quick stop somewhere. When eight o’clock finally arrived, Virgil landed in an alleyway near the theatre. He folded his wings carefully before slipping on his black suit jacket.

He looked himself over via the puddle on the ground, cringing inwardly. Virgil didn’t like dressing up, never did really. He liked wearing his shirt, boots, and cloak, it was what made him comfortable. But like the rainy weather when he retrieved Roman’s scarf, he would brave the itchy suit for the actor’s sake.

Walking up to The Majestic Concert Hall he could see a long line of mortals, all dressed up in glorious suits and gowns, waiting to get into the theatre.

Seeing that made Virgil freeze a little, he didn’t want to wait amongst all those people. His shyness and anxiety was bad enough as it is. He didn’t want it to grow worse by being in the cold and having a feeling of claustrophobia.

Fortunately, he managed to find a way to sneak in without having to deal with the crowd. Once inside, he look in amazement at the building’s interior.

Red carpets decorated the floors and the multiple grand staircases. Pictures of famous actors and actresses adorned the walls, and giant cases of costumes occasionally surrounded them. On the very ground floor of the theatre was a restaurant that was filled with patrons and patronesses.

A tap on the shoulder was enough to snap him out of his fascinations. One of the ushers handed him a playbill before attending to other attendees. Virgil looked closely at the playbill, smiling at seeing Roman on the cover.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw people walking up the staircases to the auditorium. He followed them closely while maintaining his own personal space.

Inside the auditorium, he found it to be more spectacular than what he saw moments before. From where he was sitting in the boxes, there were five balconies full of luxurious red seats. The curtain was also red that had golden frills at the base. Above that was a beautiful scenic painting and surrounding that was intricate gold detailing.

What caught Virgil’s eye though, was the beautiful and very expensive chandelier handing above the orchestra seating. A wave of anxiety washed over him, for he didn’t know how old this theatre was, he didn’t know what the chandelier’s support was, he didn’t know if it was going to suddenly collapse on top of those in the audience.

Virgil shook his head. He shouldn’t be thinking those types of things. He wasn’t smelling the Scent of Death so things were going to be alright. Things _are_ alright.

Soon the theatre was full to its capacity and the lights were dimmed. The curtain was drawn and Virgil got a glimpse of the setting. It was painted with ancient Arabia or Persia in mind, all the props had a similar theme to them as well.

Once the orchestra began playing, he made sure to keep his eye out for Roman. As soon as he found him, Virgil kept his gaze on him at all time.

Even though he was supposed to play a slave, Roman still looked handsome.

The production itself was very interesting, albeit a little boring for Virgil’s taste. It wasn’t his fault, he just wasn’t into theatre. There were moments where he would start to drift off a little before bolting awake a moment later.

Roman was phenomenal. He captivated everybody in the theatre with his performing, his singing, and his dancing abilities. He was seductive, he was charming, he was emotional, he was domineering.

Throughout the production, he showed the audience how he can go from an alluring slave boy, to a power-hungry consort. He showed how he can preserver through countless obstacles, from other slaves to the government and can still come out on top. He showed how didn’t let peoples comments affected him, from being called a witch to a murderer.

He was everything, and Virgil loved it all.

By the end, tears were pouring down everyone’s faces as they all gave a standing ovation.

Virgil knew his makeup was running but he doesn’t care. He was applauding throughout the whole encore, and when Roman came out, everything grew louder until Virgil felt like he was going deaf.

He waited until the curtain was drawn and almost everyone had left until he went to find Roman. It took him a few minutes before he found the actor’s dressing room. He was about to knock on the door before he paused.

 _Long ago,_ Virgil reminisced. _It seemed so long ago when we were young and innocent….he may not remember me, but I remember him._

… _Knock, Knock, Knock!_

“Come in!”

Virgil opened the door and he felt his breath leave him. He saw Roman sitting at his vanity, out of costume and in a dressing robe. His face was clean of makeup and his hair was slightly in his face due to sweat and the spotlight.

Despite it being years since they last saw each other, he could help but ask—

"Roman Princeton, where's your red scarf at?" A teasing smile was on his face. Roman looked up at him through the mirror, a confused look on his face, though there's a hint of familiarity in his eyes.

"Sir?"

Virgil's smile turned to a smirk as he says, "Don't tell me you lost it. After all that trouble I took. I was fourteen years old, completely soaked to the skin—”

Now realization struck the actor. "Because you ran into the sea to fetch my scarf!" he exclaimed happily. He quickly turned around beaming. "Oh I thought you looked familiar! So it _is_ you!"

"It's me, Roman." Virgil couldn't help but hug the actor. No longer was he a slim little boy, he now had some muscle to him and his arms gave the teen a feeling of comfort. "Gods you look incredible."

Roman giggled, a light blush on his face. "I could say the same to you." A feeling of nostalgia came over him. "Has it really been since my childhood?"

"You were five years old then, but yes. It's been that long." Virgil tells him with a smile of his own. He then remembered something. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a red rose tied with a black ribbon. He presented it to the actor, "Here. For a pretty amazing performance."

The actor took the rose gratefully. "It was a pretty amazing performance, wasn't it?"

"Alright, don't let your ego get in the way." Virgil rolled his though though he was still grinning. "Really though Roman, it was incredible. You were meant to be in the limelight."

Roman blushed more. "Thank you. That means the world to me coming from you." He quickly rose to his feet. "Oh we have so much to catch up on! Please let me take you to dinner!"

Virgil froze at that. Since he was a Reaper, he technically didn't have to eat. He could eat mortal food if he wanted to, but he rarely did so because of his immortality.

"Y-You don't have to do that, Roman. Honestly! Seeing you again is enough for me." he insisted, but Roman pouted and boy did he look cute when he pouted.

"I shan't keep you up late, I promise!" The actor started shoving Virgil out the door. "Please wait outside until I'm done changing. It'll only be two minutes!"

"Roman wait—“

_Slam!_

Virgil groaned and leaned against the wall, waiting Roman to be done in two minutes like he promised. He really should take Roman on his offer to spend a little more time with him. Also, he's a teenager, he has the rights to do whatever he wished to.

And he really doesn't know when he'll see the actor again. If, he ever gets to see the actor again.

That’s why when he got back to Castle Mors, he wanted to pay a visit to a certain someone who knew all about the life expectancy of mortals. And he wasn’t thinking about his Father.

Some time later, Roman came out the door. He was looking incredibly handsome in his suit. A cream blazer was atop a light yellow shirt. Knee-length black boots were over his white stocking. His blazer was adorned with red and golden patterns, on his shoulders were gold epaulettes with a gold fringe, and a cream ascot was around his neck.

As much as Virgil wanted to keep his gaze on all of Roman's outfit, what caught his eye was the fabric wrapped around Roman's shoulders like a shawl. It was the very scarf that brought he and Roman together in the first place.

The only thing he could say was, “You took more than two minutes.”

“Well I’m sorry for wanting to look my best for you!” Roman scowled.

Virgil smirked teasingly. “No wonder you’re an actor. So overdramatic and zealous.”

Roman let out an indignant shriek, smacking Virgil’s chest lightly. The prince laughed, for the actor was only affirming what he said. Roman soon smiled and wrapped his arm around Virgil’s. “Shall we…” He looked at him sheepishly. “I’m sorry. I don’t believe I know your name.”

Virgil smiled. While he wouldn't reveal his complete identity, he figured it wouldn't hurt giving away his name. "My name is Virgil.”

The actor tested the name on his tongue, then gave him a satisfied look. “Shall we then, Virgil?”

Virgil smiled, holding his arm up in a more formal manner. “After you, Roman.” Perhaps dinner won't be so bad after all.

* * *

Virgil hated walking through the Realm of the Keeper of Time. The harsh lighting always did a number on his eyes, but he powered through it. He didn’t have a choice, he needed to see something for himself.

He kept walking until he was in the presence of a throne. A throne was that of a rusting gold color, blue velvet was the seating, and on the very top of the throne was a clock. A clock whose hours were in roman numerals and its hands were black. Behind it was a calendar that represented the zodiacs, both Grecian and Chinese.

Surrounding the throne room were giant gears, almost like he was standing in a clock tower. In a way, Virgil was in a clock tower because behind the throne, was a giant clock made of glass.

The loud _tick tocks_ were beginning to drive Virgil up the wall. He felt like he was about to claw at his ears and scratch his eyes out.

But then the ticking stopped.

Even though Virgil was still able to move, it felt as though everything around him had froze.

A figure suddenly appeared before him. They were much taller than him, with pale blue skin and long, snow white hair. They were dressed in dark blue robes embroidered with gears and roman numerals decorated the sleeves.

In their hand was a scythe like his Father’s. However this was more intricate in detail. The handle was a rich brown and the blade was designed to be a crescent moon. A gear hovered above it and attached were two blue clock hands that were moving.

Behind them were wings, though they were not like the wings he and his father possess. These wings had no feathers to them. Instead they were mechanical, an anatomical skeleton of wings.

The figure looked down at him with frosty blue eyes, though their smile was kind. “Virgilius.” he said in a voice that was old for someone looking so young.

Virgil bowed slightly. “Chronos.” he said.

Chronos was the Keeper of Time, bearer of the Clock of Eternity. He counts every tick of the second hand, preventing interference with an essential forward momentum. He is a mere observer of the world, the watchman of Infinity.

Someone who his Father doesn’t take kindly too. For he doesn’t fear pain, war, or even death.

“And why, may I ask, is the son of Death standing in my throne room?” Chornos asks with a raised brow. “I would have expected your father, but not you.”

Virgil gulped. “I uhm…I need to enter the Hall of Hourglasses!” he blurts. He slaps a hand over his mouth and looks at the Keeper of Time nervously. Chronos looks at him in surprise.

“Why would I allow you into the Hall of Hourglasses?”

“I…I need to see a certain hourglass.” Virgil tells him. “Please. This is important to me.”

“You understand that you are not allowed to interfere with those hourglasses, correct?”

The prince nods. “I’m aware. I just wish to check one in particular. That’s all.”

Chronos looks at him with a scrutinizing gaze. Despite his nervousness, Virgil kept a strong demeanor, showing his stubbornness to the Keeper of Time. Finally, Chronos sighed in surrender.

“Very well.” He makes a motion with his hand and giant, golden door appears on the wall next to him. “You may enter, but do not waste your time idling in there.”

Virgil nodded and went inside. Much like Chronos’ halls, this room was also white with an equally harsh lighting. Rows of hourglasses coveted the room, each of a different design with different colored sand inside.

He briskly walked through the room, looking for that one hourglass. Unfortunately, Chronos kept them in alphabetical order, so it took him a while to find the ones with ‘P.’

On the way, he noticed another hourglass. This one had incredible detail to it: a base that was like a sundial, three columns supporting it, and a celestial map at the top. All of it was a mahogany color, but the sundial was in gold and the map in silver. The name ‘ _Logan Finkelstein_ ’ was on the plaque in front of the hourglass.

 _So this is Logan’s hourglass_ , Virgil thought as he closely looked at the sand timer. Inside was dark blue sand. Most of it was still at the top with the bottom not even a third covered.

It made sense. Logan was a mad scientist still in his prime, he had years of research and inventing before Virgil would come and collect him. Then again, Logan could create a philosopher’s stone or elixir to extend his life years after his time. But Virgil knows Logan wouldn’t do that, if Death told him it was his time, he would accept his fate with grace.

But his friend’s hourglass wasn’t what he wanted to see.

He kept searching, smiling when he finally found the hourglass he was looking for.

It was an hourglass meant for an actor. Dragon heads served as the columns, the wings supported the glass, gold was the color of the body with rubies being the eyes, and a rose was engraved at the top.

‘ _Roman Princeton_ ’ was the name on the plaque.

Virgil’s smile quickly faded to a frown when he saw how low Roman’s sand was. Almost all of it was in the bottom with about half left in the top. He wasn’t really good at estimating when a person would die, but if he had to guess right now…his heart dropped.

Roman had only about two more years left to live.

His worst fears were coming true. Roman would soon smell of Death, his Father would collect his soul, and Virgil would never see him again. Roman would become part of the souls trapped in the afterlife.

Seeing this made Virgil understand why mortals cling to life with a fevered desperation. Death is a cold unknown filled with uncertainty and a bleak, everlasting finality.

Virgil could see Roman trying to fight his Father should he come to take his soul. He would be kicking and screaming as he tried to prevent his reaping. In truth, no mortal wants to go willingly.

No. He didn’t want to imagine something like that. He wanted Roman to life a full life like he was meant to. Not to have something happen in order to have his life be cut short.

He knows he’s playing a very risky game. Not only would Chronos be displeased, for he would be messing with interfering with time, his Father would be angry with him.

Virgil knows this. Yet he doesn’t care.

Digging into his cloak, he pulled out a bag of red sand. Opening the top of the hourglass, he scooped up a small handful of sand and poured it inside.

With a smile, Virgil quickly closed Roman’s hourglass and walked out of the room, acting like he never did anything harmful.

“Are you satisfied with what you saw?” Chronos asked. Virgil nodded.

“Very.”

The teen would continue to do this whenever he could. He would sneak into the Hall of Hourglasses and fill Roman’s hourglass with a little more red sand. He made sure he would do this away from the eyes of his Father and Chronos.

Life was all about taking chances, and Virgil was definitely taking one.

For Roman.

* * *

"You do know what you are doing, right?"

"Yep."

"And you'e aware of the consequences that might, correction, _will_ be brought to you?"

"Uh huh."

"Then why do it?"

"Dammit, Logan. You know why already."

"Still doesn't mean I'm inclined to agree with it."

Virgil growled, usually he and Logan were able to see eye-to-eye with each other, but this is one of those time where they don't.

Dr. Logan Finkelstein was Virgil's best friend for as long as he can remember. The mad scientist was someone he can go to whenever things became too much for him. Being the Prince of Death wasn't always an easy job, but Logan somehow made it better. He grounded him in a way that nobody was able to do before.

Most of the time, Virgil would sit in Logan's observatory and listen to him invent. The sounds of potions and other liquids bubbling in vials and beakers, gears and cogs shrieking as a result of the olden machinery, and electricity pulsing through wires and plasma globes calmed the prince.

He didn't understand the nature or laws of both alchemy and science, but it was something Logan loved so he couldn't complain.

"You don't have to agree with me," Virgil says after a while. "Just let me do it and everything will be fine."

Logan's back was turned away from the prince, so he couldn't see the mad scientist rolling his eyes. He swiftly turned to face him with a raised eyebrow. "Honestly, Virgil? All of this because of one mortal?"

"He's more than just a mortal, Logan!" Virgil was quick to defend. "He's someone who I've known since he was a child! He's my friend!"

"As am I," Logan points out. "And as your friend, I personally believe this is something you shouldn't be meddling with."

"So you can have all the resurrecting and dealings with immortality all to yourself?"

Logan met Virgil's deadly glare with one of his own and was about to retort when they heard the clanking of heels. Virgil noticed Logan standing up a little straighter than normal.

"Now, boys, can't you two play nicely?"

They both turned towards the door to see a robotic doll standing their with a tray of tea in their hands. They had curly, golden-brown hair with bright blue eyes. Glasses adorned their face and freckles decorated their cheeks. They were wearing a light blue, patchwork dress with white lacy frills attached at the hem and the sleeves. Frilly socks went up to their knees and they wore black heels with little straps on them.

"G-Greetings, Patton."

"Sorry, Patty." Virgil tells the doll sincerely. "We'll try and play nicely for you."

Patton nodded and walked closer to Virgil. "Black tea?" Virgil smiled, taking the cup with the darkest looking liquid.

"Thanks, Pat." Patton smiled before walking to Logan. Virgil could see the keyhole that was attached to the doll's back through his shirt.

"Earl Grey, Master?"

Logan blushed but quickly accepted the other cup that was on the tray. He could only respond with a nod and Patton giggled, which made him blush harder.

Patton gave both of them kisses on the cheek before leaving. Once the sound of his heels left their ears, the atmosphere grew tense again.

"Virgil," Logan starts. The prince rolled his eyes and sipped at his tea. "That isn't why I'm wanting you to not mess with Chronos' hourglasses."

"Then what is?”

“You of all people should know. You’re the son of Death.”

“So?”

Logan scoffs. “ _So_ , that means you shouldn’t be interfering with things that are beyond your control.”

“But this _isn’t_ beyond my control.” Virgil insists. “I know exactly what I’m doing, Logan.”

“I hope you know what you’re father will say to you once he discovers this.”

“I love how you act like I’m not aware of what he’ll do to me.” Mortals are easy pray to his father, for their end is preordained. Harvesting souls was a game to him until Virgil takes the throne as King.

“Then why pursue something so risk taking? Why is this mortal—”

“ _Roman_ ,” Virgil grits out.

“—making you want to play such a dangerous game?”

It was a long period of silence before Virgil finally spoke, “Have you ever been in love?”

“…no.”

Virgil snorts. “Don’t lie to me. I know you’ve been in love.” He’s seen how Logan and Patton look at each other. The eyes filled with affection and soft smiles. Whenever the doll turns his gaze away from Logan, the mad scientist replaces that love with sadness.

Logan revived Patton when he found him here in the old manor, broken and lifeless. After a few touchups, a paint job, and hours of sewing, Logan was able to bring the doll back to life. No one knows who originally owned the manor, or who Patton’s creator was, but that never mattered.

What mattered was that Patton was able to experience life again because of Logan have the heart to let him have another chance. Patton, who was eternally grateful for the mad scientist, pledged to serve him until he wasn’t needed anymore.

After hearing that final part, Logan silently vowed that he would never tell Patton that he wasn’t needed by him. Even though the scientist can be cold and somewhat distant, he wasn’t heartless. He had grown to love the doll in his manor, acting as somewhat as an assistant, but mainly as a friend.

In a way, Logan was, _is_ , secretly in love with him. Virgil, seeing the wistful gaze in his eyes, asked his question again gently, “Logan?” The scientist looked at him. “Have you ever been in love?”

Silence. Then, “…yes.”

“What you feel for Patton? It’s the same with me and Roman.”

“Virgil,” Logan tries gently. “If you father finds out you’re giving…Roman, a chance of being beyond the mortal coil he’ll—”

“Eye him up and down with a greedy longing. I know, but I don’t care, Logan.” Virgil almost feels tears of anger and desperation well in his eyes. “Let Father yell at me, let him clip my wings, I’ll even let him reap my soul! I’ll take all the pain and suffering in both Hell and Purgatory!”

“Virgil—”

“I know Father despises those who are immortal. He always said he considered it a perversion and defiance of his purpose. But I’ll try anything as long as it saves Roman from dying.”

Logan didn’t say anything for a long while. “You can’t do something like this, Virgil.”

“Give me one good reason, Logan.”

"Because it's predestined." he tells him firmly. "You can't change what is considered destiny."

Virgil looked at Logan dead in the eye and said, "Oh yeah? Fucking watch me."

* * *

Virgil remained true to his promise, or threat as Logan read it, and kept filling Roman's hourglass with sand. He already had to be careful with hiding his actions from Chronos and his father, but now he had to keep a hawk's eye on the mad scientist should he confess everything the prince had told him.

Two years had passed, and so far. everything was going smoothly and Virgil believed things will be alright. Roman will never truly die, and he and Virgil would be together forever.

Until he made the biggest mistake of his life.

When it happened, he was sitting with his parents in the Great Room of Castle Mors; him idling on the loveseat. His mother was sitting in the chair next to the crackling fireplace, painting red roses black with a simple flick of magic. His father stood by the large window in the back of the room, his gaze kept on the scenic view of the night.

Things were calm and peaceful (as peaceful as reapers can be) until they all felt the familiar freezing of time.

A visit from Chronos was almost considered a nightly thing, as people were dying left and right. Whether that be from childbirth, murder, illness, old age, it didn't matter. His father was happy as it kept him busy and he wasn't bothering Chronos wanting to get a peek at the hourglasses.

"Chronos," his father says suddenly. "Are there souls for me to collect?”

"When are there not, Thanatos?" Chronos asks with an almost sarcastic tone Virgil snorts quietly, he had to wonder if those two were the ones that were married instead of his parents.

"How many?”

"Simply one.”

"One?" Thanatos looked towards Chronos and almost pouted. Virgil snorted again. His father was always this big deity that was fear by millions of people, yet he acts like a child sometimes. Thanatos sighed. "Whose lifestrings shall I cut this night?”

Curiously, Virgil looked up to see the hourglass Chronos was holding, and his heart froze at whose it was—

"Roman Princeton.”

Virgil wished it was a dream, it feels like one, though it wasn't. It was Roman's hourglass that the Keeper of Time was presenting to the Grim Reaper. The Scent of Death reeked in the air, and it came from that very hourglass.

"No." Virgil whispered to himself. How was that possible?! He made sure that he was filling it with sand every day! He didn't understand, what had happened in between the last time he filled it to now?!

Then he remember. He had forgotten one day because he didn't have anymore red sand and needed a fresh supply. But it was too late. Chronos discovered it had run out, and he was presenting Roman's demise to his Father.

It was past Roman's eighteenth birthday, so he wasn't going to be murdered like his original death was supposed to be...but it still made Virgil's heart ache knowing this may truly be the last time he'll see the actor.

Virgil looked frantically at his father and saw the reaper nod slowly. "Another restless soul awaiting Death." he says finally. Virgil felt like he was the one whose soul was going to be reaped. "Very well. I will release him from his pain.”

“No!"

All three of the adults turned towards Virgil with shocked expressions. The prince was now standing up, looking grief-stricken and pale. He was shaking like a leaf, his eyes were blurred almost as if he were about to cry.

"Please don't...Please don't take him, Father!”

Thanatos glared. "Now, Vergilius—"

"Let me take him instead!" Virgil blurts out. He slapped a hand over his mouth as he realized what he had just said. Thanatos' glare quickly changed back to the shock he had moments ago.

"Vergilius, you cannot be—"

"I believe he is serious about this, Thanatos." Chronos tells him gently. "Look at the boy, he looks like he will be facing your scythe. Let him have his first reaping, he's about due.”

Thanatos ignored that last part and made his way over to Virgil, who, despite being terrified, stood tall against his own father. "What is it about this mortal that you've grown accustomed to?” he asks. "You knew he was going to surrender his soul to me eventually. Why are you invested in collecting his soul? Tell me, Vergilius.”

Virgil could feel his father's dark aura enclosing him. His eyeshadow slowly grew darker and circled his entire eyes, though he didn't let it completely affect him. He was stronger than what his father believed him to be.

"I just want to give him a proper sendoff to the afterlife that's all." His voice was slightly deformed, and his father was looking at him like he didn't believe him.

Though somehow, he didn't question it.

Raising a hand, Thanatos summoned his scythe and passed it to Virgil. As soon as the powerful object was caught, it changed form. It now became his own as opposed to his father's.

Virgil inspected the scythe from the blade to the handle. He had to admit, it was a nice design change and it matched his personality well. He looked over and saw his father holding out Roman's hourglass. There was a firm look in the reaper's eyes.

"Do not disappoint me, Vergilius." was all he said. Virgil steeled his eyes and nodded, quickly taking the hourglass and making his way out of the Great Room.

Chronos gently stopped him with a hand on his arm. The prince looked and saw a much more softer look in his icy eyes, though there was still a firmness to them.

“I hope you know what you are doing.” he tells him.

“Don’t worry. I do.” was Virgil’s response. He left the Great Room and went straight to his room.

This wasn’t how he wanted things to be, but destiny had a different plan for him. 

Once he got there, Virgil immediately sat down at his bed, setting the hourglass on the bedside dresser, the scythe leaning against it, pulled out a black notebook and began writing.

_‘Please meet me at the theatre close to midnight. x V’_

He ripped the letter out of his notebook and opened the door of a birdcage that was hanging near his bed.  Out flew a giant raven that gracefully landed on his arm.

“Edgar, I need you to deliver an important message for me.” He presented the letter to the raven, who held it in its beak. “Please hurry.”

With that, Edgar flew away and into the night sky. Virgil watched him with trepidation.

He could only hope Roman wouldn’t afraid of him.

Time will tell, though the actor didn’t have any left.

* * *

Roman didn't know what he was expecting when he received that note from Virgil. Though he didn't mind it at all. Anything to reunite with his beloved friend again.

When he entered through the backstage door, he was immediately hit with a feeling of comfort.

This was his true home, not the big mansion that he lived in with his parents and sister.

He loved theater more than he loved life itself, he couldn't image himself without it.

Being in the spotlight gave him a sense of identity that he never really had before. A sense of pride that was longing to come out of him. Most importantly, a sense of living the life he never knew he dreamed for.

As he walked across the center stage, he remember he first introduction to the theater. His mother was wonderful enough to bless him with tickets to see an opera, Mozart's _Die Zauberflote_.

From beginning to end, he was transfixed by the sheer majesty of the opera. His little gaze payed attention to every scene, and his little ears memorized every note that was sung in the Germanic language.

Once the final encore was done and the curtain closed, Roman instantly knew what he wanted to be.

He wanted to be an actor. Whether it be in operas or plays, it didn't matter.

The stage called to him, and he wanted to beckon to it.

Since his childhood, he honed his craft and soon rose to become a young and prominent name within the theatrical community. He dreamed of making it to bigger and better stages, but he was perfectly content with the life he was living.

However, he was left to wonder why Virgil called him here. He knows there weren't any productions being put on at this hour, so he simply stood there as he waited for his friend.

Roman shivered when he felt a cold breeze brush against his skin. The theater was always a cold place, but this was a different type of cold feeling.

This felt...ominous. Like something dark was about to happen, though he didn't know what.

Finally, he got his answer.

"Roman."

The actor smiled when he heard the familiar voice, but when he turned around to greet Virgil, he stopped in his place. Virgil looked different, more intimidating, almost scary.

He still had on his traditional purple shirt, ripped jeans, and black combat boots, so that provided some comfort to Roman. But he noticed Virgil was wearing a cloak that had purple pieces of patchwork on it.

Virgil was also wearing makeup. Eye shadow completely circled his eyes, though it made his silver eyes stand out, and his black lipstick extended itself beyond his lips all the way to his cheekbones. It was finished off with vertical lines that when from his cheeks, to his upper and lower lips, all the way to the other side.

It was almost like Roman was staring at the face of an actual skeleton.

What really made him stand still was the object Virgil was holding. It was a scythe, a very beautiful one at that. The handle was pitch-black with a skull at the base, the blade itself was a silver but there was a purple carving on the blade though he couldn't make out what it said.

A chill ran up his spine and a sense of dread flooded his being.

"Virgil?" Roman couldn't help but ask. He let out a nervous laugh and the grim-like figure gave him a look that was of sympathy, understanding. It only added to Roman's confusion and dread. "A-All Hallow's Eve isn't for a while, is it not? So...w-why are you--"

"Do you know who I am?"

That made Roman pause. "What?"

"Do you know who I am?" Virgil repeated, remaining in his place near the center right of the stage.

"O-Of course I know who you are!" Roman says with a false sense of confidence. "Y-You're Virgil! You're my best friend, someone I've know since childhood!" Roman's voice slowly wavered and he was looking like a lost child. A complete opposite to the arrogance he always displayed. "Though that's...not really who you are, is it?"

Virgil kept his gaze sympathetic as he shook his head. "No. And I didn't really expect you to know who I really am. If you did...heh, I would only bring you to fear and I'd lose you permanently."

Roman let out a sad noise. It shattered Virgil's heart. "Virgil, you could never lose me. No matter who you are, I'll always be there for you. To this I promise."

A sad, bitter chuckle. "You can't promise me that, Roman. Not to someone like me."

"Virgil," the actor whispers taking a step closer, though he recoiled back when he felt something akin to a dark aura around the grim-like teen. "Tell me who you really are...please?"

Silence surrounded them for the longest time until a pair of black wings sprouted from Virgil's back. They were in pristine condition and were spread out in full. Roman couldn't help but stare in pure fascination.

"A...A nevermore?" Virgil snorted.

"I wish...but no." He took a deep breath. "I'm actually..." A groan. "My name is Vergilius Mors...I'm the Prince of Death."

Time stood still as Roman could only stare at him. Virgil could swear in that instance, without his help, the actor's heart stopped for a moment. In his eyes, the teen could eye shock and even fear.

“W-What—"

"Please let me explain." Virgil begged, and he was relieved when Roman nodded. "I-I know this is something you weren't expecting, I wasn't expecting to introduce myself to you. But I don't have a choice."

"You don't have a choice?" Roman asked slowly. "How come you don't have a choice?"

Again, Virgil didn't say anything and he could only pull out Roman's hourglass.

"Is...Is that my...?"

Virgil nodded. "Your hourglass. These hourglasses belong to both the dynasty of Reapers and The Keeper of Time. Once an hourglass has run out of sand, my Father, being the Death Himself, is sent to collect their soul and guide them to the afterlife." he explains.

"So...I'm supposed to die?" Denial started seeping out of him once he saw Virgil nod. "But...but I can't die! I-I'm suppose to be on the stage! I-I'm suppose to be a famous actor!" Roman felt like he was suffocating. He was so numbed he could barely feel the prince's arms wrap themselves around him. "I can't lose my soul. I'm not ready to go! Please don't let me go, please!"

The prince shushed him gently, rubbing his back in what he hoped to be comforting motions. Since tonight was all about telling the truth, he may as well continue with that theme. "I won't let you go, Roman. I _haven't_ , in fact."

Roman looked at him tearfully, eyes filled with confusion and even a little hope. "Explain."

"I haven't let you go." he tells him again. "You were actually suppose to die after your birthday."

After his birthday. Roman was supposed to die after he turned 18.

"So how— How am I still alive then?" He couldn't help but ask.

"That's because of me." Virgil blushed. "I kept filling up your hourglass with red sand until one day I forgot, and The Keeper of Time told Father to collect your soul."

"I take it you asked to do it instead?"

Virgil nodded. "I didn't want him taking you. It would have destroyed me. So, I volunteered myself to collect your soul. And, here I am."

Roman let out a noise of acknowledgement and looked at his hourglass, silently asking for Virgil to give it to him. Which is what the prince did. Even though glass is cold, this felt strangely warm under his touch. Perhaps it was because it's his own hourglass, Roman didn't know. He looked at the delicately designed timekeeper carefully.

"How long as it been empty?"

"...A while."

"And you say you don't wish to collect my soul?"

"I...yes."

"So I'm...an immortal?"

"No. You just won't die unless I want it to happen."

Roman blinked. "...so...when is that exactly?"

Virgil blushed as he mumbled, "Maybe never?" The prince gulped as he slowly got down to one knee.

"V-Virgil what are you...Oh my heavens." Roman looked like he was about to cry when he saw him pull out a red box with a black velvet interior. The ring itself had a silver band with black skulls surrounded by roses in rose gold. The diamond in the middle was a ruby that shone beautifully in the intense lighting.

A ring meant for the future Queen of Death.

"Roman...fuck I'm not good with the romantic stuff like you are. But I love you. I've loved you since I first met you as a little boy. I knew from then on I wanted to see you live a long and happy life, whether that be with me or someone else. But when I found out you were going to die young...I couldn't let that happen to someone as beautiful as you. I did everything I could to save your life, but this is the only other option I have. So, Roman Princeton, will you please marry me?"

“Virgil…I-I—"

"You have ten seconds to answer before I actually kill you."

Both of them froze. Roman with amusement and Virgil with second-hand embarrassment.

 _You have ten second to answer before I actually kill you..._ Virgil screamed at himself. _Who the hell says that to someone they want to marry?! For Grim's sake what is Roman getting himself into?!_

Virgil knows his father is going to notice that he didn't actually kill him, but he has a feeling he'll like Roman for a son-in-law, hopefully. Time was up, but he decided to add another five seconds.

"Five seconds, Roman." Virgil pretended to brandish his scythe as it was already sharpened.

"Hmm..." Roman knows if he says yes, he's going to have to give up everything he ever worked for. His dream of becoming an actor wouldn't completely be over. How could he fit that into the schedule of a Queen, does the Queen of Death even have a schedule?!

On the other hand, if he says no, his dreams will truly be over. Virgil will collect his soul and guide him to the afterlife, never to see him again. And, after everything they've been through together, he couldn't bare to have that happen. That would truly end his life.

Knowing his decision already, he pretended to ponder. A teasing smile danced on his lips. Virgil held his scythe, ready to swing it with one foul swoop.

"Three, two...Roman?"

"Hmm?"

"Two and a half. Two and one third."

"I'm thinking, dear."

"Oh for the love of... **One!** "

"I do." The scythe just stopped at Roman's waist. That was too close for Virgil's comfort.

"Are you sure?" Virgil asked stupidly. "Because if you really mean it, the bonds of mortality would be cut, and you'll never truly be a human again. You'll be living with me in Castle Mors for eternity."

Roman looked at the prince, _his fiancé_ , with a smile and Virgil felt his own heart stopping. "I'm absolutely sure, Virgil. There's nothing else I want more in my life. I used to say theater was my home, but now I see, _you_ were my home all along. And I wish to be with you, now and forevermore...Make me your Queen, Virgil."

"I will. I promise I will." The prince vows. He looked down at Roman's lips. "...May I?"

“ _Yes._ ”

When Virgil’s lips touched his, it was a Kiss of both Life and Death, for Roman felt like he was dying and being reborn. He felt his knees slowly give out and he was collapsing to the floor, bringing Virgil down with him. Yet the prince didn’t break their kiss at all, it was when he heard the stroke of midnight did he finally break away.

_Dong!…Dong!...Dong!_

Once he did, he waited patiently for Roman to open his eyes. (The actor really didn’t know he had them closed in the first place). Slowly, Roman did so and Virgil smiled when he saw the change his kiss brought.

The almond brown eyes that he was born with were now a deep red. A red that matched the ruby of his new engagement ring. Roman noticed immediately how different everything was now. He was a brand new person.

No longer was he Roman Princeton, a mortal actor.

He was now Roman Princeton-Mors, Queen of Death.

Virgil smiled wider. “Hey there. How do you feel?”

Roman didn’t say anything other than pressing his lips against Virgil’s in another kiss, this one deeper and more passionate than the previous one.

He broke away only slightly, just enough for him to purr out, “ _Alive._ ”

* * *

**EPILOGUE - October 31st**

Virgil stood in Chronos’ throne room. Silence surrounded him like a comforting blanket, though it did nothing to ease his nerves. The harsh ticking of the arms and the loud, rusty movements of the gears matched his heart. Delicately held in his hands, was Roman’s hourglass.

_Dong!...Dong!...Dong!_

Midnight struck. Virgil felt his wings open, black silhouetting against the white of the room.

He hears familiar footsteps thumping against the floor, knowing they were Logan’s. He doesn't smell the Scent of Death, so everything went well. That calms him greatly, though he wanted the scientist to say it himself.

"Well?"

Logan smiles. "You should know. You don't smell it, do you?" Virgil doesn't answer, so Logan continues. "Everything went splendid, Virgil. The surgery was a success and Roman is perfectly fine. You can go and see him now if you wish." With that, he leaves.

Even though Logan's footsteps are out of earshot, Virgil doesn't follow him. Instead, he takes a deep breath and does a breathing technique that he learnt from Patton.

In for... _1...2...3...4_.

Hold for... _1...2...3...4...5...6...7_.

And out for _1...2...3...4...5...6...7...8_.

When he felt himself grow calm, he made his way down the hall and back to the Castle.

Slowly, he walks down the hallway and towards his and Roman's room. Patton is standing there with a happy smile on his face. Virgil notices there are blood stains on his apron, but he isn't concerned about it.

Patton opens the door and Virgil walks in.

Lying on the bed was Roman, who was looking exhausted but very happy. He was holding two little blanketed bundles close to his chest. A soft, gentle smile was on his face as he hummed something that sounded like a lullaby.

He looked over at his husband and his smile grew warm. “Come meet our sons, darling."

Cautiously, Virgil walked towards the bed and sat beside Roman. Their sons looked identical to them, though one them had Roman’s tanned skin as opposed to Virgil’s alabaster. And while both had dark brown hair like his wife, only one had flecks of purple like he did.

They were so beautiful. Just like Roman.

Virgil's voice was stuck in his throat as his wife carefully handed him one of their boys. “H-Hey there, little guy. I’m your Dad.” Tears fell from his silver eyes as he stared at the little bundle in awe. “Could you imagine it...the King of Death being able to create two perfect lives like these?"

Roman smiled, sitting up a little. “Yes. For you're Queen helped you with that, you know."

A wet laugh erupted from the reaper as he pressed kisses all over his wife’s face. "You. Are. Unbelievable." he murmured in between. "You. A mortal human. Becoming immortal. And marrying the Prince of Death. Blessing him. With two sons! You. Fascinate me. So much!”

"I thank you for all the endorsements, love." Roman giggles. Once the kissing ceased, he looks down at the baby in his arms, then to the one in Virgil's. "What should we name them?”

Virgil took a moment before deciding. “Can we name the one you’re holding Thomas?” he asked as he tapped his, Thomas’, little button nose. “It’s a mortal name, but it suits him doesn’t it?”

The immortal nodded. “Thomas and…Virgil look,” Roman gently points his finger under the second baby’s eyes, noticing there was little golden freckle-like marks underneath. “Unusual birth markings, aren’t they?”

“Wait,” Virgil said as he got a closer look. “Those aren’t birth marks…they’re _specks of sand_.”

“Sand?” Roman looked closer. “You’re right!”

“…Did the Sandman bless him or something?”

“I don’t recall him doing so,” Roman tells him. “But if he did—”

“If he did, we’ll find out when he’s more grown up.”

Roman nods, keeping his gaze on the baby. “How about Remington for his name?”

Virgil scrunched his nose. “I’d rather it be Latin like my name, Remigius. We can call him Remy for short, since I always liked Virgil instead of Vergilius. Makes it appear normal to the mortals.”

“Thomas and Remy Princeton-Mors. Our two little angels.”

“Angels of Death.” Virgil points out with a smirk.

Soon Remy started fussing in Virgil’s arms. The reaper calmed his son as best he could, but Remy continued wriggling, ultimately revealing two pitch black wings. “Roman, look.”

Roman gasped when he saw them, carefully running his fingers across the soft feathers. Carefully, he moved Thomas’ blankets and saw the exact same wings that his twin had. But instead of the traditional two, there were four. “ _Virgil_.”

“Four wings,” Virgil gasps in awe. “My father had four wings.”

“Our babies,” Roman cooed, looking at both of his sons and kissed the top of their heads repeatedly. “Our special, winged darklings.”

“Our Princes of Death.” Virgil says in agreement.

Roman snuggled closer to his husband, sighing happily when the reaper slipped his free arm around his shoulder. “I love you, _mi segador_.”

“I love you too, _immorientio meus._ ”

 

" _(Saying, "don't be afraid") Come on, baby_  
_(And she had no fear) And she ran to him_  
_(Then she started to fly) They looked backward and said goodbye_  
_(She had become like they are) She had taken his hand_  
_(She had become like they are) Come on, baby_  
_(Don't fear the Reaper)_ "  
     -- "Don't Fear the Reaper" by Blue Oyster Cult

**Author's Note:**

> I put some lyrics to the song "Don't Fear the Reaper" by Blue Oyster Cult because I think that song is a perfect metaphor for the fic as a whole, as well as Roman and Virgil's relationship. They're together for eternity, and that's a beautiful thing to think about on Halloween. <3 I recommend everyone listen to this song because of how unbelievably good it is, I reblogged it on my Tumblr account which is @asoftervirge!
> 
> Be prepared: **November 3rd** , the first chapter of A Royal Miracle (A/B/O Logicality) will be posted. You're welcome. :)


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